Dreaming With a Broken Heart
by Difficult-notImpossible
Summary: James was always known to get the girl, it was just a fact of life. But now he realizes that when you let something go and abandon it, it's not always guaranteed that it'll still be yours when you return. Set after BT-CONCERT with an alternate ending.
1. Dreaming With A Broken Heart

**Okay... so ever since i saw BT concert (which was the most amazing thing I've ever seen lol) I havvent been able to get the ideas of alternate worlds out of my mind. What if gustave never came back? That's the one question repeating itself. **

**So... this happened. I honestly dont know where it came from. Maybe it was when I was listening to "Dreaming With a Broken Heart" by John Mayer... (shrugs) who knows... **

**Well,,, read... enjoy :) **

* * *

He watched her from a distance. The fog against the glass hiding him for her view. And yet, he could see her perfectly. He watched as her hair bounced gracefully behind her as she skipped along, and he watched as that familiar bright smile spread across her lips. He remembered that smile, remembered how her dark eyes seemed to get a million times brighter as she grinned.

His heart sunk and his eyes stung.

Long ago, back when she still loved him, back when everything seemed perfect, he remembered that _he_ was the only one who could get her to smile like that. He would say something totally ridiculous, or trip over his own feet, and then marvel in the beauty of that one smile, letting the melody of her laugh fly by in the wind for all to hear.

He saw leaves of the trees outside move, breaking themselves free of the branches and flutter to the ground with the mid-autumn breeze. As if to taunt him, she threw her head back and laughed, the wind carrying it through what he once thought to be the safety of the walls around him, and it seemed to hit him right in the chest.

She looked so _happy_, as she fixed the hat on her head and stomped along through the piles of leaves. The leaves flew up around her, circling around her frame and dancing along beside her. Some flew away as more breeze blew by, others fell back to the ground, and the rest fell into her spell and grew attached to her, latching themselves onto the cloth of her clothes or the fabric of the black hat she wore. She turned, her dark hair fanning out behind her, and that smile he loved so much grew even wider. Her lips formed a word, a _name_ to be correct, and he shoved in a breath and squeezed his eyes shut, wishing and -for a second- imagining that it was _his_ name she was saying. He thought back to when it could have been his name escaping her lips, could have been his hands resting on her waist as they kissed, could have been _him_ making her smile and giggle like that.

But it wasn't.

Her laugh was then joined by another one. One also familiar to his ears. He watched from his vantage point behind the window of the coffee shop as someone else came up behind her, the much too familiar face of his best friend (or should he say, _former best friend_) coming into view. He watched as she looked up, her eyes getting even brighter upon settling on _him. _

He ran his hands through his hair, his hazel eyes unable to break away from the scene unfolding right in front of him. He suddenly regretted coming back, putting himself through this misery. Why was he so depressed anyways? He had millions of girls all over the world swooning just at the mention of his name. He could pick any he wanted, he didn't need her. She was just a girl in the past. An old flame. A teenage fling. Puppy love. Whatever the hell you wanted to call it. He was over her, she was over him. End of story.

He sighed. Of course, these were just lies he had conjured up over time. All those nights as he lie in bed alone, staring up at the ceiling of his super-cool crib, the memories of all of those moments they had shared repeating themselves in his head, playing out in his mind, forming into actual visions behind his eyelids, almost like a movie. All those little moments that never seemed like much but now seemed like the most important thing in the world to him. Every time the sun would peak through the fancy blue curtains of his amazing room, he found himself wanted to just pull the covers over his head and never getting up.

Suddenly, he found himself singing the lyrics to that John Mayer song softly to himself. Before, when he would catch her playing the piano at the studio, her iPod tucked away in her back pocket and the ear buds secured tightly into her ears, he never really understood why she loved John Mayer so much. The slow, piano/acoustic guitar songs were so _not_the type he would sing. Then, out of pure curiosity, he looked up one certain song, and it now ruled his life.

He scoffed and shook his head, glancing up as the waitress came around and filled his cup with more coffee. _Looks like John Mayer was right_, he thought to himself, staring at his reflection in the fogged glass. _Waking up is always the hardest part_.

His eyes moved from his reflection to the scene outside once more, and he suddenly realized that before, that would have been impossible. But, he had to admit, he just couldn't stay away from her. She seemed to have this gravitational pull that just pulled him back and back again. By this point he was supposed to be halfway around the world, performing for his fans in Germany or something. But instead he was here, sitting in an empty Minnesota coffee shop, watching as the only girl he ever really loved go about her life. He wondered how long it had taken her to realize her feelings for his best friend, and he only hoped it wasn't shortly after he had left.

He watched from the distance as she teasingly reached up and tugged on the strap of the helmet he wore, and he watched as he laughed and wrapped his arms around her. They both shared a smile before both leaning in...

He set down his mug and looked away. He assumed this was his consequence for hurting her so badly. He knew that it was wrong, leaving with on such a bad note with her. He knew what he had told her wasn't right, for it wasn't even true. Nothing would ever be more important to him than her, not even his music, he knew that now.

But he also realized it was too late.

He had left with no goodbye, no letter, no phone call, nothing. He had just walked right out and assumed it to be the best choice. He never really realized how much it would hurt her if he left. Honestly, he hadn't really thought about it at the time. All he could think about was the money and the fame. He had come, secretly hoping on apologizing and begging her for forgiveness, and the shallow pop star side of him actually thought she would take him back.

She wasn't.

She had moved on, found comfort in none other than the one he had trusted so dearly. And now, as he saw the way the looked at each other, he knew that the love she used to feel for him was now transferred to someone else, and probably magnified a thousand times. He watched as they both stood together in the pile of leaves, and his heart ached as he wished it was _him_ holding her and not the Latino she had now fallen for. It pained him to think that he would never again hold her, or talk to her, or share the little moments he loved, or kiss her the way that Carlos was kissing her now.

The pulled away after what, for him, seemed like an eternity, and their foreheads touched gingerly, that smile, _his_ smile, taking over her lips. The Latino only stared at her in awe, his hand coming up cup her cheek. They shared another short kiss, and then Carlos' lips moved, and he said something that caused her to grin like an idiot.

He didn't have to hear to know what he had said.

Then he realized something.

Something that caused his heart to stop and the tears finally escape.

He just now suddenly realized that he had never told her that he loved her.

* * *

**There WILL be another chapter! **

**...if you review. **

**-Nessa.**


	2. All At Once

_AHA! Yes, yes, I know it's been WAY too long, and honestly, I wasn't planning on it, but here it is! the next chapter to dreaming with a broken heart! I'm REALLY sorry, but please forgive me and review! :) _

_The lyrics in here are from "All At Once" by the Fray_

* * *

He spent too much time sulking in that diner, thinking and frowning. The amount of coffee he drank sitting there was enough to keep him up for the next three days, and he dreaded having to go back to the hotel and face the darkness alone as sleep abandoned him. His phone was a constant motion of vibrations in his jacket pocket, but he ignored it, growing frustrated after the fifteenth call and shutting the annoying thing off. He didn't want to talk to anyone, much less Hawk, who he assumes found out of the flight to Germany that carried one less passenger and was seething. He didn't care at this point, he was a musician, and he had the right to be shallow and selfish. That's how he had been his entire life, right?

No, not right.

She was one of the few people that were able to push past his shallow personality and see the real him. She was able to help him look past his reflection and love something besides himself, even if he didn't want to admit it. She had whispered those words so many times, waiting for some sort of response, but she would receive a simple dismissive smile or curt nod. He forced himself not to notice the disappointment that would flash in those dark eyes, not to notice the way her smile would falter. She would forgive him soon enough, because she knew him, and she knew that he was far from capable of having an intense relationship that would require that specific emotion. When they went out with his friends, they would comment on how he had never been in such a long relationship, how his love for himself and his desire for fame wouldn't let him have a healthy relationship, and he would laugh along with her, not noticing that sad look in her eyes, almost as if she knew that what they had wouldn't last for too long.

He kept his head ducked and his eyes on the ground, glancing up every once in a while to make sure he wasn't going to crash into anything. His hands were shoved deep into the pockets of his jeans, seeking warmth and escape from the bitter cold that season carried into the town. Dead leaves crunched under his shoes, and he tried not to remember how she used to prance around and stomp of the brown leaves just for the simple satisfaction of hearing the sound of them disintegrating under her feet. He used to tease her for liking the sound of crunching leaves, his smile reflecting hers as their eyes would meet.

Once again, he failed at pushing his memories away.

He continued to walk throughout the town that he used to know so well, distracting himself by surveying all the changes that had occurred since he had last been there. He had spent the last three years touring the world, forgetting his roots and divulging himself in the wonders of being famous. He spent his money like it was nothing, because he knew there was more in the stacks. He sang his heart out on stage and awed thousands and millions of fans with one glittering smile or flip of his hair. It was ridiculous really, how easily entertained his fans were, but that's how he lived. That's what he wanted…

Right?

He wasn't sure anymore.

He walked past his mother's house without a second look. As much as he'd like to visit his family again, see his friends again, he doubted that they will even want to look at him. He didn't blame them. Kendall told him to move on, that's what he did, but he didn't think his friend meant to move on and forget everything he was leaving behind.

Now that he looks back, he realized that's exactly what he did.

He sighed, a cloud of white fog rising in front of his face. He wasn't sure what he was doing, or where he was going. He wondered what exactly he was doing here, back in Minnesota, and the answer comes to him easily:

To torture himself.

He can't get her out of his head, and he's pissed about it.

He clenched his jaw tightly in annoyance. What the hell was he even doing? Was he seriously beating himself up over some dysfunctional relationship that was bound to end eventually anyway? Now that he thought about it, they spent good portion of their time arguing. She had different views on everything and wasn't afraid to voice her opinions, as harsh as they seemed. Her sarcastic remarks got tiring after a while, and annoyed him to no end. She was stubborn and harsh and didn't understand him sometimes. She had a short fuse too, and would blow up on him without warning, yelling and screaming and flailing her arms around like a madwoman. He hated that look she gave him when she thought he was doing something wrong, like she knew everything and how to be perfect.

She was far from perfect.

So why was he even there? If he was going to start beating himself up about romances that didn't work up, he might as well just shoot himself on the spot. James Diamond wasn't known as the most perfect boyfriend on the face of the planet, and yet he had girls lined up at his door just waiting for him to set eyes on them. He didn't need her. And judging by the happy couple he had witnessed from the diner a couple of hours ago, she didn't need him either. She had _Carlos_ now. And _Carlos_ could deal with her. He was pretty sure that the poor Latino would grow tired with her attitude soon enough and get rid of her anyway.

He stopped dead in his tracks when his eyes landed on that familiar soft face through yet another window. _Rose's Flower Shop_ was printed on the glass, and a smile pulled at his lips when he recognized the old shop that her grandmother used to own. He couldn't count how many times he had bought her flowers from here, listening to the hints the old woman would throw his way on what flowers her granddaughter enjoyed.

The way her eyes would sparkle when he would hand her the bouquet of flowers, her plump lips stretching across her teeth. He could never get enough of her smile, or of her, when she would set the vegetation in their respective vase and surrender herself over to him. Her skin forever smelled of roses, and he loved to drag his hands across that soft skin and marvel in her beauty. He could almost taste her lips, a strange combination of coconut lip gloss and cinnamon chewing gum. He could almost hear her whisper in his ear, whispering the words he had refused to respond to, choosing instead to continue in his ravishing of her.

Then he realized that no matter how much they argued, it was worth it when they would make up.

She stood right on the other side of the glass, behind the counter, speaking with a smile to different customers and filling in orders and simply working. He stared for a while, the inner battle of whether he should slip inside roaring violently inside his head. He tried to picture the scenario in his head. What's the worst that could happen?

There were countless of vases lying about, as well as scissors to cut off over sized stems. What was the chance that she would choose to hurl one of those things at him the minute she saw him in hopes of killing him?

Going back to her short temper, it was a pretty big chance.

What would he say anyway? It was too big of a risk, he'd keep his distance, observe her from afar, make sure she's doing okay, and then be on his way.

The small bell hanging above the door rang as a familiar helmet head exited the shop, hockey duffle hanging from his shoulder and ice skates bumping against his leg. It wasn't hard to guess where he was going, and James wondered where his other hockey friends were.

It didn't seem to matter anymore. He knew how pissed his friends were at him. What mattered now is that now she stood in that flower shop practically alone, doodling on a writing pad, just waiting for him to walk in.

Before he had a chance to make up his mind, he found himself pushing the door open and stepping through, the mixed aroma of different flowers hitting him straight in the face. She didn't look up from her station, and he wasn't sure if he was relieved or not. He kept behind some large and abundant displays scattered about, taking deep breaths and looking around. The flower shop was almost the same, besides some new paintings hung up on different walls, paintings that he knew were painted by her. Each flower had its own station, colors grouped together at the far ends of the room while multiple tables toward the middle of the gallery held different assortments with an array of different colors and shades. Rose Valastro was the biggest florist in Apple Valley, and everyone knew how committed the old lady was to her little shop.

After a while of staring at her from behind an assortment of roses and lilies, he decided it was time to approach her. If it was anyone else, he would have whipped out his comb and sported his famous flirty grin. But this wasn't anyone, and suddenly he didn't know how to go up to her.

His legs carried him on their own, and once he stopped in front of that counter, the only thing he wanted to do was high tail right back out of there. He swallowed the lump rising in his throat and pushes his fists deeper into his pockets, nervous for the first time in his life. She still didn't look up, her attention devoted to whatever she was scribbling down on that pad. "How can I help you?" Her voice was music to his ears, and as soon as she speaks he was bombarded by all those nights he spent with her those three years before. He could see her cheeks rise, and hear the smile in her voice. A ring that he hadn't noticed before rested on her finger, and a pang of envy rages through him. This was anything but a good idea.

She finally raised her eyes when he failed to answer, and her eyebrows came together in confusion.

No one was there.

He chickened out at the last second, ducking behind an extravagant vase, waiting until she was looking the other day to slip out of the door just when a small family decided they wanted to come in. He glanced back to make sure she wasn't looking as he escaped.

Their eyes met for about three seconds, and he cursed under his breath before practically sprinting down the road.

…..

The door slammed behind him as he stormed into his rented room, his fist flying toward the wall. He'd pay for the new hole nestled in the smooth wall, an illustration of his anger.

He'd been so close. He was so close to talking to her again, to making her smile again, to hear her voice again and gather her in his arms again. But he panicked and took the coward's way out and ran away.

And the worst part:

She _saw_ him.

He ruined everything just by those few seconds where their eyes met. He saw the shock expressed in her gaze, the hurt, the betrayal. In those few moments he knew what he had done to her, and he hated himself for it.

_Maybe you want her__  
__Maybe you need her__  
__Maybe you started to compare__  
__To someone not there._

He threw himself on the bed and buried his face in his hands, his fingers pulling at his hair. All that time he wasted worrying more about his career than her, all that time he spent comparing her to the girls he had glimpsed in California, all that time he thought he could find something perfect, she stood right in front of him, waiting for him to look past all of it. Sometimes he would, temporarily, before relapsing right back into his selfish ways. And yet, she still loved him.

_Maybe you want it__  
__Maybe you need it__  
__Maybe it's all you're running from__  
__Perfection will not come._

But she grew tired of waiting around for him, she found someone else that loved her and made her happy. He had witnessed it himself. They were happy together. That ring on her finger meant something to both of them, and who was he to ruin that? Despite everything, Carlos was still like a brother to him, even if the feelings were no longer mutual. The Latino deserved love, and James needed to accept the fact that he missed his chance. She fell in love, she fell out of love, and back in love with someone better.

He didn't deserve her, he saw that now. He abused her emotionally, left her without warning, never even tried to keep contact. How could he simply expect to walk right into her life and assume that everything would just go back to how it was before? His selfishness screamed for him to run back to that flower shop and grab her and reclaim her, no matter the circumstances. She was his first and he wanted her back.

But there was another side to James Diamond. One hidden under all the self praise and mirror talking and selfishness. It was the side that she was able to help build up in the short time they were together, the side she fell in love with, the side that was slowly showing itself as the years went by. James Diamond was growing up and starting to see reality.

Who was he to destroy her happiness just to feed his own? Who was he to reclaim her when he never owned her? She was her own person, she had her own life, and she deserved to live it. He now realized how much he loved her, and he regretted never telling her. As much as he wanted to go back and tell her everything, he knew it would never be enough. His heart was heavy in his chest and his eyes watered.

_And all at once the crowd begins to sing__  
__Sometimes__  
__We'd never know what's wrong without the pain__  
__Sometimes the hardest thing and__  
__The right thing are the same._

She would simply have to be another girl in the past.

…..

He's wearing dark sunglasses that cover half his face, as well as a baseball cap. His scarf is tight around his neck, and his hands are deep in the pockets of his coat. His back is stiff against the hard chair of the airport gate, and he sighs in relief when the flight attendants announce that they will be boarding the plane to Germany in five minutes. He isn't looking forward to the few hours he has left to himself before he is forced to face Hawk once more and sit through the man's accusations and yells about the show they were forced to cancel.

Once James revealed his location, Hawk went crazy and started gushing about how good this was about his repuatation. "Heartbroken Soul" was the next image for "Jamez" apparently, and the girls were to go crazy. James didn't care anymore. Hawk could do whatever he wanted with his image, the contract was almost over anyway. And when it was, James would launch his own record label, produce his own music, and actually _sing_. He would clear up his name, right after _correcting it_, and make his own image. In the meantime, he just had one condition.

Her name would not be mentioned in any story that the label would decide to make up.

He stands as they announce first class boarding and hauls his duffel bag over his shoulder, stepping into the line leading to the plane that would take him far away from here, from _her_. His life would go back to how it was before.

He's not sure if that's what he wants anymore.

After his passport and boarding ticket are returned, he begins his entrance to the plane, glancing back at his hometown that he's leaving behind.

Then he sees her.

On the other side of the glass, she stands, dark eyes searching for him. She frowns when she doesn't find him anywhere, and raises a hand to run through her dark curls. He drops everything and begins to push past the crowd of people walking the other way toward the plane, desperate to get to her in time. He waves an arm over his head to get her attention, but she's already turning around. "No!" he exclaims, trying to push past more people, but they're pushing him back and ignoring him.

He's almost out and able to run to her when another person runs up behind her, and he freezes when he sees them.

Carlos gathers her in his arms and rubs her back, his face just as disappointed as hers. He sees her shoulders rise as she sighs and looks up at the Latino. He gives her a comforting smile and whispers something that James can't hear before pressing a kiss to her lips.

All at once, his world comes crashing down.

_Maybe you want her__  
__Maybe you need her__  
__Maybe you had her__  
__Maybe you lost her to another__  
__To another._


End file.
